


It's in his Kiss

by Draycevixen



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Christmas, Community: martianholiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Severinne, for the Armed Bastards Exchange (2008).</p><p>Her prompt was: 'Well, I knew you weren't gonna come out and ask for this for Christmas, so...'</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's in his Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [severinne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/gifts).



.

Sam was nothing if not methodical. Maya had once pressurized him into reading a poem by Ed Dorn called _Gunslinger_. Sam had found it to be a fascinating read except for the fact that the Gunslinger killed things by describing them. Sam had always felt that to be able to describe something in minute detail was to be able to control it, in fact to own it. Maya had just rolled her eyes at him.

Sam preferred, given his choice, to make careful notes, recording everything he knew about his chosen study subject, but some things were just too dangerous to write down. This then was the reason he found himself sat in the middle of a CID Christmas party that was somewhat reminiscent of the fall of Babylon, feeling like the last sober person in the world and mentally cataloguing the debacle of the last month.

 

The 5th of December... _No, it was the 6th, come to think of it._

Sam had tried to apologize and Gene had punched him in the gut so hard that Sam had folded and fallen to the floor. Lying there on the floor, struggling to breathe, he'd stared up at a Gene Hunt who was obviously barely in control of himself.

 

 _Why did you try to apologize? Because it's almost Christmas and I think everyone should be happy. Bloody liar. You want Gene to be happy._

 

Then strangely, Gene had bent forward and stretched out a hand toward Sam who had instinctively flinched away. Just for a moment, Sam could have sworn that disgust had flickered across Gene's face but whether directed at himself or at Sam, he just couldn't say.

“Don't be a pillock Tyler, I'm offering you a hand up.”

Sam extended his arm and Gene pulled him to his feet, slightly miscalculating the force needed to raise him off the ground, sending Sam slamming into Gene's chest. Gene instinctively wrapped his arms around Sam to stop them both from falling over.

 

 _I thought he was going to kiss me. No you didn't. You were surprised to realize how badly you wanted to kiss him._

 

Gene had pushed Sam back to arm's length, hands braced firmly on Sam's shoulders and then had jerked him suddenly forward, crushing Sam's mouth against his lips before pushing Sam away again and stalking out of his office, slamming the door behind him.

 

The 10th of December.

Gene had dropped Sam off at his flat. As Sam had been saying goodnight and reaching for the door handle, Gene had grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulled him in and kissed him again. Sam had kissed back enthusiastically, wondering at exactly what point breath composed of a heady mixture of whisky fumes, cigarette smoke and curry spices had become an aphrodisiac.

 

 _He really knew what he was doing though, it was like my spine was bloody melting. You had to ruin it of course... I was just trying to make it better._

 

Sam had lowered his hand to cover Gene's crotch and had started to rub at the hardness straining against polyester. Gene had broken the kiss immediately, said “goodnight, Tyler” and practically thrown Sam out of the car.

 

The 15th of December.

Sam had been surprised to answer the polite knock at his door and find Gene with a case file tucked under one arm and a bottle of single malt dangling from the other hand.

Gene had sat in the armchair and Sam had perched on his bed as they'd traded pages of the Hennessey file backward and forward between them, putting a serious low tide mark on the bottle of whisky at the same time and debating what Hennessey might be up to in the warehouse down by the canal. When Sam had leaned across Gene to refill his glass, Gene had taken the bottle from Sam's hand, stowed it safely on the floor and then kissed Sam again. As he'd done so, he'd placed Sam's hand on his crotch and reached for Sam's flies.

Sam had been lying on the floor, too wiped out to even move and grinning like an idiot, when Gene had rearranged himself, zipped his trousers up and left without a word.

 

The 19th of December.

Things hadn't gone well at Hennessey's warehouse. Hennessey had been drawing a bead on Gene when Sam had pushed Gene out of the way, getting his right arm creased by a bullet for his troubles. Gene had been all solicitous concern, well as close to that as Gene could ever manage, until he established that Sam had escaped with little more than a scrape to his arm, Sam's leather jacket having not been quite so fortunate. At that point, Gene had bellowed at Ray to take over, saying he needed to have a few urgent words with Sam about learning to obey orders and frogmarched him off to the warehouse office. Once there, Gene had locked the door and then attempted to locate Sam's tonsils with his tongue. Hyped up on adrenaline and needing a damn sight more than a kiss, Sam had dropped to his knees, opened Gene's flies and took Gene's cock in his mouth. He'd rolled his eyes up to see Gene staring down at him in what could only be described as stunned shock. It hadn't taken much for Gene to go off like a rocket and Sam had risen to his feet licking his lips. It had been Sam's turn to be stunned as Gene had in turn dropped to his knees and taken care of Sam's pressing problem. Afterwards, Gene had rose to his feet, zipped himself up, nodded at Sam and left.

 

The 22nd of December.

Sam still wasn't sure exactly what was going on in Gene's head, but he was getting impatient. He'd had a week to wind himself up into a state where he couldn't think straight at all and that seemed like just the right state of mind to beard the lion in his own den.

He'd waited until CID had emptied out, patted his jacket pocket one last time and made his way into Gene's office, carefully closing and locking the door behind him. As Sam has stepped around the desk, Gene had turned in his chair trying to suppress a grin.

“So what you got on your mind, Sam?”

“You.”

Sam straddled his lap. Gene kissed him and Sam let him drive for a few minutes, before pulling his head back and taking Gene's hands and moving them to his arse. Gene squeezed hard and Sam almost yelped in reaction. Sam leaned in closer again, grinding down against Gene's straining erection, before kissing his way up Gene's neck and whispering in his ear.

“I want your cock in my arse Gene, every straining inch of it.”

Sam reached into his pocket, producing a tube of lube that he pressed against Gene's chest. Without warning, Gene reared up out of the chair, dumping Sam on the floor and instinctively catching the tube as it started to fall. Gripping it tightly in his fist, he stared down at Sam for a moment, before stalking across the floor, grabbing his camel hair coat off the rack and storming out of his office. By the time Sam got to his feet, Gene was gone.

 

And that little catalogue of events brought him back to Christmas Eve and the CID party. Sam had failed yet again. He'd examined and re-examined every detail of these events over the last two days and he still couldn't describe what was happening between the two of them... or rather, not happening. He looked across the room where Gene was currently drinking single malt with Litton. _Litton._ It had to be Christmas for those two to be drinking together. As Sam watched, Gene slammed his glass down on to a desk, nodded at Litton and started making his unsteady way toward Sam.

“Tyler!”

“Yes, Guv?”

Gene fumbled around in his trouser pocket for a moment before holding up his car keys triumphantly in that overly precise way of the severely inebriated.

“You're driving me home.”

Sam wasn't sure afterwards if the room had just happened to fall silent at that moment or whether they'd all just been stunned by Gene's unexpected and unprecedented words.

“You're the only sober one here and I'm not trusting the Cortina to anyone else.”

Gene started toward the doors of CID, Sam trailing along in his wake. When they had reached Gene's house, Gene had surprised him by inviting him in and then stunned him by casually mentioning that the Missus had left him a couple of months before. In the house, Gene had suddenly seemed to sober up, reaching for Sam, pulling him in and kissing him thoroughly.

 _So it's all about his rules. I don't care. Who knows, with time..._

Gene stepped back and started walking up the stairs.

 _So, this again. Should have known._. “I'll be off then. Happy Christmas, Gene.”

Gene turned on the middle step. “You don't want to... come up, then?”

Sam started climbing the stairs and Gene turned and walked the rest of the way up, across the landing and in to his bedroom. Sam followed.

 _Right now, I'd follow him anywhere. Only now? Shut up and concentrate._

Gene turned to face him, easing Sam's jacket from his shoulders and then working on Sam's shirt buttons. Sam stepped in closer, kissed Gene and started undoing his belt.

Once they were both naked, cocks pressed hard against each other's bellies, Sam tried really hard not to say anything, but he just couldn't stop himself.

“Why now, Gene?”

“Well, I knew you weren't going to come out and ask for this for Christmas, so...”

Sam stepped back. “I'm not a fucking charity case, Gene.”

“D'you have any idea how bloody good you look right now? All bobbing cock and moral indignation.”

Gene pulled Sam close and wrapped his arms around him, kissing Sam breathless.

“Just promised myself that this year, for the first time in too many bloody years to count, I'd get something in my stocking that I really wanted for Christmas. Something that'll be good to have all year round. That's you, Sam.”

Gene lowered himself on to the bed, pulling Sam down on top of him.

“And just in case you think I've come over all hearts and flowers” Gene ground his erection into Sam for emphasis “I've still got that lube you handed me and I meant what I said about wanting my stocking stuffed.”

 

.


End file.
